Birthday Drabble for Dysonrules
by thelivinggirl
Summary: Just a short, sweet drabble for the lovely Dysonrules, who fills the Harry/Draco fandom with glee and squee. There's a 'hell' and 'damn' thrown in here somewhere, but it's by far the tamest thing I've ever written.


Author's Notes: Hi there! Just a few notes:

1. This fic was written in May of 2009, and is (in my opinion) below my current writing standard.

2. It was written for Dysonrules, a beauteous goddess of H/D luuurve. The name Dysonrules is both her Livejournal username and her FF username – go give her a look if you haven't already.

3. It was written with the prompts: chalk, geometrical, translucent, cookout, inquisitor general, blizzard, sunburst, and twisted.

4. This is FLUFF. Not to mention ridiculous sap and a very slightly OOC Harry. Like I said, not my best work to date. Feel free to flame, it won't bother me.

5. Shockingly, there isn't even any smut. Not even a real kiss. I realize that your world is spinning crazily and the earth will most likely fall off it's axis, but hey, I get my mind out of the gutter _once_ in a while…

6. Finally, PLEASE REVIEW. Even a one-worded comment like 'cute' or 'lolz Harry' lets me know that people are reading and enjoying.

**A BIRTHDAY DRABBLE FOR DYSONRULES**

"I hate it when you do this, Potter."

"Oh no, you called me by my surname. Let me cower in the corner."

"Shut up. I'm being damn pleasant about this, considering the fact that I'd rather face the inquisitor general than go to this insipid excuse for every Weasley in Britain to gather and eat enough food to feed a small army on the budget of an actual family of weasels. Which they are." Draco added petulantly.

"Wow, I haven't heard you rant like that in twelve whole hours! Face it, we're going to the Weasley's family cookout. You could use some sun – we haven't been out in so long, your skin is practically translucent."

Draco looked hurt for a just a split second, but Harry saw it anyway. Mentally berating himself for being insensitive enough to say that when he knew perfectly well why Draco didn't like to be in public so much, Harry made a move to cross to Draco, but it was too late; the Wall had already gone up, covering the hurt with sneering anger and a demeanor as cold as an Arctic blizzard.

"Well in case you've forgotten, _Potter_, I'm an ex-Deatheater." He sneered. "I'm so sorry that the stigma that comes with your boyfriend having been involved with a certain ex-Dark Lord is impeding your social life."

"Draco, love, I didn't mean it that way at _all_. I-"

"Yes, Harry, you did mean it. Just go to the damn party and leave me the hell alone."

"No, Draco, I won't let you shut me out this time! I'm _sorry_, we all say things we don't mean when we fight. You're blowing this out of proportion, it's twisted all around!"

Draco glared and moved to look out the window, face set so hard that his angled features were nearly geometric. As a sunburst illuminated his face, it threw dark shadows across his visage, making his skin look white as chalk in contrast.

Harry felt helpless; Draco was so irritable about the public's reaction to him being with the Hero of the Wizarding World. Harry had been hoping that making their relationship public and allowing everyone to see how much he adored Draco would soften the country's opinion of the former Slytherin, but they seemed to only become increasingly voracious in their criticism of the pair.

He sighed and walked up behind Draco, slowly entwining his arms around his waist and resting his chin on his shoulder, leaning his head against the pale cheek. Harry held him until he could feel the nearly imperceptible relaxing of his shoulders as the Wall weakened. Turning his head to whisper into Draco's ear, he said,

"I don't know how many times I need to tell you this Draco, but I will never get tired of saying it; I love you. More than anything. Nothing else matters, just you and me, and I don't want to push you outside of your comfort zone. If you want to stay in, we can stay in. If Britain is too much for you, I've found that the Americans are past caring about who supported who when Voldemort rose again. If you want to go live a thousand miles away from everyone, well, I would actually love that, so long as you take me with you."

"Draco, please forgive me. I know your life is hard, and Merlin knows that being with me isn't making it any easier. I only have myself to offer to make it a little worthwhile, and hope that that's enough. Okay?"

The Wall was destroyed into rubble and dust – Draco turned in Harry's arms and nuzzled into his neck, giving him a soft kiss there. Harry exhaled in relief and rubbed his back in soothing circles, twisting his head to return the kiss on Draco's hair.

"Stupid prat. It's more than enough." Draco said softly.

"Mmmm." Harry was beyond words at the moment, breathing in the sweet smell of his boyfriend.

Of course, Hermione chose that movement to floo-call.

"Harry, Draco, you two are adorable, but if you don't come _now_, I'll have Fred and George call you every fifteen minutes until you guys decide to show."

Harry drew back enough to peer into Draco's face, wordlessly checking if this was okay with him. Draco smirked back, but it was the wry smirk that Harry loved. The blond heaved a sigh and allowed Harry to drag him over to the floo, wondering how Harry did this to him while knowing it was so very worth it.


End file.
